


give the bomb to the wolves

by Ahavaa



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: AU, Gen, alternate secret identity reveal, matt a secret identity was probably not a good idea here, matt tries so hard, matt's cascading shitshow of a life, vladimir ranskahov does still die though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-18
Updated: 2015-07-31
Packaged: 2018-04-04 22:24:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 7,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4155246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ahavaa/pseuds/Ahavaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thank you, masked terrorist: now Foggy got to worry about Matt AND feel how it hurt like a motherfucker every time he took a breath.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> title paraphrasing Daphne Gottlieb's Fifteen Ways to Stay Alive, specifically _offer the bomb to the wolves, offer the wolves to the zombies_ , because it reminds me of that fun idea where you have a rat problem, so you send in cobras to kill the rats, and then you send in mongooses to kill the cobras, and then you've destroyed the environment and your house is full of venomous snakes and vicious mongooses, but at least you have no rats. 
> 
>  
> 
> that is matt's entire life, constantly. 
> 
>  
> 
> prompt from here:  
> http://daredevilkink.dreamwidth.org/1742.html?view=4312014&posted=1#cmt4312014  
> worst superhero reveal possible

"You don't actually want to do this," Karen was saying, and she'd hit the pitch that meant she felt a little hysterical. Foggy agreed. Foggy was ready as hell to be hysterical, he just couldn't quite focus long enough to get there. Because of the hole. In his side. 

The hole in his side that had apparently offended the masked asshole badly enough that he'd dropped off a fucking roof (who _does_ that, Karen, what is wrong with your taste in men?) to trap them in an alley and start shouting about it. Hey, good for him - until he'd used his psychic powers or whatever to tell that Foggy was bleeding, Foggy hadn't even noticed. He'd been too worried about Matt. Thank you, masked terrorist, because now Foggy got to worry about Matt AND feel how it hurt like a motherfucker every time he took a breath. 

Matt, by the way, who was still missing, and because Foggy wasn't dumb, probably still out there somewhere. Jesus. Okay. Sorry, Matt, we were trying to find you, we just got a little bit kidnapped by the terrorist who set off the bombs. Be okay, buddy, Foggy thought, and then for good luck directed that thought up towards the broken pieces of roof (or floor? or whatever?): god, look out for Matt, he's out there on his own, make sure he's okay until I can get to him, Foggy thought. 

Okay. So he had a little - small - medium-sized hole in him, so what, at least he wasn't a blind guy with no sense of self preservation and a worrying insistence on proving his own independence stranded somewhere in the middle of a fucking _bombing_. Meanwhile, here they were, stuck in a falling apart warehouse with a guy who looked very, very dead lying in the middle of the floor, and a guy who looked very alive and very crazy who had their phones and also had some kind of acrobat-ninja powers. And bombs. Couldn't forget the bombs. 

"He's _not dead_ , nobody is going to die," the masked asshole said, reassuring words from a terrorist, great - "fuck," Foggy said, out loud, which turned out to be a mistake. It got both Karen and the lunatic zeroing in on him. "I didn't call my mom back," he said, "it's okay, carry on, I didn't call my mom before you stole our phones, not a big deal." Had he mentioned that Matt was missing? He couldn't remember, suddenly: he hoped he had. At least then one person would know that he was - not okay. 

He appeared to be lying in a puddle. 

Great. 

"See," Karen said, and she was getting a little shaky, that wasn't good, Foggy wanted her much closer all of a sudden but he felt a little too tired to stand up right this second. "Look, see, he's nobody," she said, wait, what? "He's not anyone you know and he's hurt, you don't want to - to have to worry about him right now, you could let him go, you'd still have me -"

but oh look at that, they'd both interrupted her, Masked Asshole to say "Let you _go_?" in a frankly insulting kind of incredulous tone, okay, fine, maybe this was his first time branching out into taking hostages, maybe he was wear-people's-faces-as-a-mask kind of crazy and was mad that they weren't enjoying his hospitality, that didn't matter, what mattered was Page getting _ideas_ , if they were going in a "get one of the hostages released" direction it was damn sure going to be her, for fuck's sake. It was rude for her to try to rescue him: let's be real, he had a hole in his side, even if he got rescued from the terrorist who was to say he'd be rescued by an ambulance in time to - 

\- keep it positive, Franklin, he thought. Anyways. The point was that Karen was the one who should be rescued, obviously, and it was rude of her to try to do the rescuing. Brave. Hot, a little bit. 

How much blood had he lost? 

"I'm not nobody, man, I'm a lawyer," he said, loud, interrupting both of them. "I'm telling the truth, you can check my phone, I can help you, I want to help you, I think you're a good guy, but a good guy wouldn't try to keep a girl like Karen here, you look a little overwhelmed, you don't need this many hostages. You should let her go, man."

"ARGH," said the dead body on the ground, and he shrieked, and Karen yelled, and the masked asshole looked like he wanted to turn around in circles pulling his hair out or hyperventilate. _Good_ , Foggy thought. _Sweat, you bastard._

"I need to - Ms. Page," he said, how did he know who Karen was? oh, yeah, he'd been stalking her. This was probably her fault. _Never fucking say that out loud_ , Foggy thought, because there was an off chance that Karen hadn't made that connection yet. "Please go look after - that man, I can't let anyone leave, I have to - I have to make a call. _Don't do anything stupid_."

Karen wound up kneeling next to him, pulling her coat off and pressing it against his side. 

The less said about that, the better. It wasn't his finest moment. 

"I think," she whispered, "oh my god, who is that, he's bleeding so much - I think I can get one of the - the pieces of wood, maybe?"

"Yeah," Foggy said. He felt a little drowsy, which was dumb. 

" _Foggy_ ," she said, and it wasn't a whisper exactly anymore. "No no, stay with me, shit, _shit_ , no, what am I supposed to do here - "

"I'm good," he said. Probably he was. So it was cold; it was an abandoned warehouse, obviously it was going to be cold. "Just...testing you."

"...a roadside kit," the man in the mask was saying, into the phone, in the opposite corner of the room. Great. That wasn't at all creepy and terrible and ominous. He was really regretting that one time Matt had forced him to watch half of Saw and narrate it, the sick bastard. 

"You need to leave," he said. 

The guy who wasn't dead yet made some more noises. 

"No," Karen whispered, "no, I think - you need to distract him, Foggy, can you - because if I can grab one of those pieces of wood, and you distract him, I can -"

"NO ONE IS HITTING ME OVER THE HEAD WITH A PIECE OF WOOD," the masked asshole shouted. Karen made a strangled sort of noise and grabbed Foggy _hard_. 

"Karen," he said, "you were supposed to _whisper_ that kind of stuff."

" _I was_ ," she whispered, shit, that wasn't - that didn't make sense. That wasn't good. He was at least thirty feet away from them, how had he heard that? 

"Sorry," Karen said, "sorry sorry oh please don't - " because he was walking back towards his pathetic little gang of hostages, and he was carrying a roadside kit, _fuck_ , that was - that was not good. 

"You must have ears like a bat," Foggy said, desperately trying for "cheerful human being you don't want to murder," "holy shit, that was like thirty feet away. I know a guy who - he acts like he can hear shit like that, man, but you -" because Matt had always been ridiculously picky about the music, when they roomed together, even when Foggy was wearing headphones. He'd like to pretend that he could hear it. It had been a clear and obvious way to make fun of Foggy's taste in music, but sometimes he'd guessed what Foggy was listening to - fuck. 

Matt. 

"Look," Foggy said. He felt a little dizzy. Karen was crouched next to him, and he thought she was - shaking, maybe, or crying? "My friend, I think I said I have a friend, you took my phone away, man, he's all by himself right now, he's blind." He had to stop there, for a minute. "Can you just. Can you just check my phone? Just - we're not gonna get in your way, nobody is gonna do anything, you can put down the - whatever that is." 

"We're gonna do exactly what you want," Karen said, and she was holding his hand very tightly, "we promise, it's fine, we're going to help you, can you just - check my friend's phone, see if he missed any calls?"


	2. Chapter 2

Point of fact, which Foggy was _never going to tell anyone ever_ if they got out of this night alive: if you did that, it would smell like a flare, obviously, but it would also smell a little bit like fucking bacon. Apparently all those pirate jokes about long pig had been correct, because - yeah. Cooking person. 

Smelled like meat. 

He'd thrown up. 

Karen had held his hand, and then _she'd_ thrown up, and Foggy had been really sad and angry that he couldn't hold her hair for her. That's what guys were supposed to do when girls threw up, after all. Karen had really, really pretty hair, and now it looked all - sweaty, and clumped together around her face. 

The masked terrorist had looked at them, then. Foggy hadn't realized that he was eyeing the hole in _Foggy's_ own personal side until Karen had stepped in front of him, shaking and wiping vomit from her mouth, and said "No. You are not doing that to him." 

He'd heard of valkyries before, y'know? Those really hot Viking women who were supposed to take people to heaven, or whatever. 

Look, he wasn't saying that Karen _was_ one, he was just saying that if he had to go to heaven (or hell, or whatever), he wanted Karen to be the one to hold his hand when he went. 

Anyways. He'd thought about that for a minute, and then he'd had to think about what the fuck was he going to do if this terrorist tried to do that to him: the guy-who-wasn't-dead, the other hostage, he hadn't ever been fully conscious, it didn't look like, but he'd made a lot of noise and it had been - it had been - 

\- so Foggy had started shaking a little. He'd have to try to make the terrorist lock Karen up someplace else, because. Because he couldn't let her watch that happen, he couldn't make her watch that happen, oh god. 

"I _don't want to_ ," the terrorist had said, and it looked like he was sweating through his asshole mask and shit: good. "Keep pressure on that wound, Karen." 

"You _don't use my name_ ," Karen said, venomous, unexpected, and fuck, no, Karen, don't provoke the lunatic who burned people. The man in the mask looked surprised. Foggy felt terrified; Karen looked terrified, like she hadn't meant to say that. She went with it, though: fuck, if they got out of this alive, Foggy was just going to make it official, ask her to marry him, hunt down all those dumb art flicks on Netflix that featured "artistic threesomes" and start playing them whenever Matt came over. "I don't know why you saved me before," she said, and she was shaking _really bad_ , now, even on her knees with her hand over the coat pressed to the hole in Foggy's side, "but you don't use my name, that's not - this isn't -" 

She'd started crying. She gestured vaguely, to the warehouse. The smoking guy on the floor. Apparently he wasn't dead yet. " _Don't_ call me Karen," she said, "I don't care what you do to me, take your best shot," and Foggy was wrapping an arm around her, hell if he could do anything else right now, he hated this, but at least he could comfort her before they all got murdered by a psycho.


	3. Chapter 3

At that point, everything got to be kind of - a lot. Especially when the-not-dead-guy woke up for reals, to find that he was stranded in a falling-apart warehouse with delightful company (Karen, Foggy) and a violent out of control nutjob (Black Mask). 

Black Mask wanted to ask him a lot of questions.

He did't want to answer anything - fair, Foggy wouldn't tell Black Mask _shit_ at this point - but when Karen started something about how Black Mask shouldn't do that (had she been paying attention? there's a lot of shit Black Mask shouldn't do) the not-dead hostage helpfully added "he killed my brother," which. Well. "Decapitated him with a car door," and he seemed to take a grim pleasure in the looks on their faces. There's that question answered, anyways. Black Mask was definitely okay with killing people. 

Not that - Foggy knew, objectively, that it was a silly line to draw, what with the kidnapping and the burning and the bombing and the torturing of burned hostages, but. Still. He didn't want to check out, exactly, because Karen was there, and so what, the masked man had saved her before, he was a psycho, he'd probably saved her because he was waiting for her skin to mature or her organs to get old enough to harvest, like in Silence of the Lambs. Still. 

He was tired, and cold, and there was a lot happening. He didn't quite pass out - he kept hold of Karen's hand, he remembered that, and he was proud about that - but he sort of missed a lot of steps. Which was why he was surprised, and relieved (oh god, Matt's not dead!) and terrified (of course, Matt's a hostage now too) because it had the logic of a nightmare, to lie on a dirty cold concrete floor and listen to Matt throwing the kind of absolute shitfit he hadn't heard since law school. You are not the only one, buddy, Foggy thought.

" - and I didn't KILL ANYONE, I didn't KILL YOUR PIECE OF SHIT BROTHER! who was KIDNAPPING MINORS! so if you would spare THIRTY SECONDS to FOGGY over there instead of WASTING ALL YOUR TIME caring about this ASSHOLE, the only reason I care about him is because he knows where Fisk might be -" 

Which, now that Foggy thought about it, was kind of weird for Matt to be saying. Fuck. Maybe Matt had been hurt in the explosions too, goddamnit. "Matt," Foggy said. "You gotta shut up, dude, that guy in the mask is crazy, he heard Karen whispering from thirty feet away," and Karen was gonna break something in his hand if she kept squeezing it like that. 

" _Matt_ ," she said, but she sounded terrible. 

"No," Matt said, "no, I -" 

and Foggy opened his eyes. 

" _I can explain_ ," Matt said, but Foggy couldn't see him, lying down like this. He could see Karen, and the not-dead-yet-other-hostage, who was awake and watching him and Karen with a slit-eyed, honestly terrifying intensity, and also - shit! - the lunatic who'd kidnapped all of them, but he couldn't see Matt. That wasn't okay, he needed to - sure, Matt was here, but they'd been captured by a lunatic, where was Matt, he needed to make sure Matt was okay -

 

**

 

"Huh," Foggy said. 

"'Matt,'" the half-dead guy on the ground said. 

" _No_ ," Matt said, but weirdly, it was Matt's voice - Foggy could tell, now, it was Matt trying to drop his voice and sound gravelly, but it came out of the masked lunatic's mouth. 

"Karen," Foggy said. 

"Ah shit," Karen said. 

"Karen," Foggy said again, because he was lucid enough to realize that he might - might be dealing with a lot of blood loss here. "Did I just. Either I'm having some kind of terrible Freudian hallucination or that asshole just started talking like -"

and _that_ question was answered, unfortunately, not by Karen, because the asshole in the mask said "Please stop _saying my name_." 

Half-Dead Guy brightened up, when - when the asshole - when - Matt said that. 

Well, Foggy thought. 

What a shit judge of character _I_ am. 

and 

God, I hope he really did have a crush on Karen, because - because she needs to get out of here, and I just (stupidly) outed him. 

and 

Fuck. 

and

He knows where my mom lives. 

Which was such a dumb thing to think, under the circumstances. 

"Oh my _fucking god_ ," Karen said. 

"Matt," the half-dead guy said, thoughtfully. As thoughtfully as you could if your abdominal wound had just been cauterized with a road flare, at least. 

"Hundreds of people are named Matt," the terrorist (Matt? no, something deep inside Foggy said, quietly, no, not Matt, not yet, don't give up on Matt until you see his face) said, faintly. 

"Who are you people? Karen?"

"Don't even fucking try it," Matt said, and he loomed - Matt! loomed! - over the guy. "You'll be wishing you were dead if you try it."

"I am not cool with this sudden descent into - into murder and torture," Foggy announced, just to get it out there. It was probably a stupid idea. His best friend was - how the fuck was _blind Matt Murdock_ running around - were there any eyeholes on that fucking mask? - kidnapping and torturing people - okay, antagonizing him was not a good idea, but - but Foggy wasn't quite sure he could control what was gonna come out of his mouth next. 

Aw, Matt, Foggy thought. Never let me make fun of _Karen's_ inability to properly judge character again. What are you _doing_ , Matt? What the fuck are you - but he was really, really tired, and it honestly didn't seem smart to say those sort of things out loud. Matt-in-a-mask seemed to get really angry about people saying his name.


	4. Chapter 4

"No one is getting murdered!" Matt - fuck! no! denial! Foggy was probably bleeding out, the least he should be able to get was denial - might have shouted, a little bit. 

"Oh, I don't know about _that_ ," Karen said. She wasn't holding Foggy's hand any more. 

"Karen," Foggy said, "if you murder Matt tonight we won't be able to trick him into living with us." 

There was a sort of awful, thoughtful silence after Foggy said that. 

"What," Matt said. He sounded strangled. 

"Although I guess we don't want him in the house," Foggy said. "Because of all the torturing." 

"How much blood have you lost?" Karen said, to which thank god the obvious answer was "I don't have a scale, Karen," it was nice when he didn't have to think too hard about these things. 

Someone was laughing - a LOT - which was either good or very rude, Foggy couldn't tell anymore, exactly, but it was fine, Karen was holding his hand, even though her eyes were really fucking big. He could see white all around the edges. 

"Probably shouldn't have said that out loud," Foggy told him. 

"You should conserve your strength," Matt said. He was the kind of person who said shit like that, apparently. 

The terrorist - okay, fine, Matt, Matt was a terrorist who'd kidnapped them all, Foggy's heart was breaking a little, fine - was leaning over him even though Karen was hissing "get away from him." Good job, Karen; she knew how to get on the same page as Foggy was ridiculously quick. He'd thought that he and Matt were on the same page. Man, how stupid was he, how long had Matt been laughing at him behind his back, pretending to be blind, going out and beating people up at night? 

"Get _off_ me," he said. And because he was mad, and it had been a really shitty night and it was clearly going to get worse, because now whoever Matt had pissed off was going to try to kill all of them, he shoved at Matt. Who jerked like Foggy had really hit him, that was cute, "would you stop condescending to me, I saw you - you fighting, that didn't hurt," Foggy said, and Matt's mouth twisted. God, he looked dumb, dressed up like that. 

"We can't stay here," Matt said, "I need to see your - "

"no," Foggy said, "no, here's the thing, I don't think you do, I think you should get out of here, and I think that when the cops show up I - I probably won't say anything, because I am really dumb and because I never saw your face, this is what I can give you, I am really really fucking angry that I am giving you that much."

"I can't leave you here," Matt said. 

"Karen, if you're not getting something to hit him over the head with so you can run for it," Foggy said, without raising his voice, because: fuck this asshole, honestly. 

"Fisk is killing everyone who knows anything," Matt said, and his voice had gone all wobbly, all of a sudden, "they just shot a cop, about half an hour ago, outside the building."

" _How could you possibly know that_?!?" Karen yelled, and okay, maybe she was crying a little bit, Foggy couldn't be a hundred percent sure that he wasn't, who cared about that when everything he knew turned out to be wrong? 

"I swear," Matt said, and it wasn't like Foggy had been able to fight him off, he was still doing _really terrible things_ to Foggy's side, like he knew anything at all about patching people up after they'd gotten holes put in them. 

"No," Karen said, "that is some bullshit, that is some grade A bullshit, Foggy, you can't be buying that -"

(" _Stop saying everyone's names_ ," Matt hissed, like sure, the half-dead guy he was torturing was in fact kind of scary looking, with the scar on his face and everything, but it was cute that Matt seemed to think that one was the big threat to everyone's safety. Yeah. Sure, buddy.) 

"I am not," he said, and closed his eyes because he didn't want to have to watch the bottom half of Matt's face twist up like he was about to cry. Foggy was weak, all right, he was conditioned to look out for Matt, especially when Matt was exhausted enough to start crying. He had to remember that had been a bunch of lies. "You swear on what, buddy, on the years of lies that you've been throwing my way?" 

Matt was a liar. 

Huh. Still so weird, to think: Matt Murdock, conscientious careful ethically Matt Murdock, he was the one who'd been lying to Foggy for years. "Man," Foggy said, "I sure hope I am hurt bad enough that this is all just some fucked up hallucination."

"No," Karen said, and she sounded like she was crying, or about to cry. 

"Yes," Foggy said, "trust me, it's the best option here."

" _Shut up_ ," Matt said, suddenly. He wasn't yelling any more. He was very quiet, and very serious, and it worked just about as well as it had in law school. Which was to say: it was very effective. 

The radio crackled.


	5. Chapter 5

Karen has her hands pressed over her mouth. Someone - well, that's Fisk, I guess, Foggy thought, numbly - was making threats. Steady, terrible, horrible threats. 

Matt needed to stop talking. Matt needed to stop letting this man - play for time, he was obviously playing for time? 

"If I - if I killed him," Matt said, fumbling. He looked lost. He had to be bluffing, right, but he was standing there with his head tilted like he was thinking about Foggy and Karen and also apparently this criminal Russian dude, and Karen made a hurt gasping noise, and. Wait. No. 

Matt wasn't - was he playing for time? He had to be, he better be, "No," Foggy said. 

Looking back on it, he could wish that he hadn't said it, and he could think about whether he'd made the conscious decision to speak or not, or what might have happened if he could've held it together for another three seconds, but - but Foggy had never dreamed that he might be stuck in a fucking bombed out building and see his friend rationally, seriously consider killing someone. 

Matt whirled on him, and even the bottom half of his face looked terrified and furious, and he mouthed SHUT! UP! and Karen had a hand over her own mouth and a hand over Foggy's, and she looked grey. 

"How many people have you dragged down there?" the radio said. 

Matt had started pacing in a tight, fast circle. 

 

**

 

"Okay," Karen said, "we - Die Hard this shit? what was it, I forget, I saw it on TV with hostages - Matt, get rid of that, if you get naked - if you can get naked, look pathetic enough -"

"Oh," Foggy said. "that's a stupid idea. It might work, though."

"You two are adorable," the Russian who'd tried to kill Matt said. "Dead, very soon, yeah? Cute, though. Are they your pets?"

Matt kicked him. 

He screamed. 

Karen screamed. 

Foggy screamed. 

He didn't know what the fuck Matt thought that was going to do, but. Yeah. 

"Young man," the radio said: hooooly shit Foggy was gonna kick his condescending ass. 

There was a suspicious, terrified silence. 

"I said that out loud, didn't I?" Foggy said, faintly. 

Karen looked absolutely petrified, and also like she wanted to giggle: oh god, the shock was kicking in. At least one of them was thinking clearly. Matt kicked the radio into the wall; it exploded into a scatter of sparks. 

 

**

Matt had found a grate. 

Matt was also panicking pretty hard, because there were apparently a lot of men with guns zeroing in on their location. 

"I can't - lift it," he said. He was shaking. Vladimir was watching all of them, looking fever-bright and focused. And then Matt said both of their names, which Foggy realized was not a good sign, Matt was the one about secret identities and suddenly he didn't care? So Foggy was woozy, that didn't mean he was dumb, it was. "Foggy, Karen, you have to believe me, I never -" he licked his lips, fast. "I didn't mean for it to happen like this," he said. Foggy had never heard him so gutted before. "I - I am so sorry that I dragged both of you here, I never would've -"

"No," Karen said. "No."

Matt was the one who had the best idea of what the situation actually was, and he was saying personal things in front of the Russian guy he hated. 

"No martyrs," Foggy said, "nope, nope, not happening." 

"Foggy," Matt said. He didn't sound mad anymore, just - tired. "I don't know what to do." 

Well knock Foggy over with a feather, duh, Matt had no fucking idea about what he was doing, that was abundantly, expressly clear. 

"All three of us are pulling," Karen said, "that's what we're doing."

"You know they'll die here," the Russian said, watching Matt like the lizard that he was, because what? 

"How is that helpful, why do you think that is something to say, shut up?" Foggy asked. "Four of us, Karen, don't be dumb."

"And if we get into the sewers, where we will drown like rats, what then?" he asked, still staring at Matt, did this asshole ever blink or was he really just part robot? "Let us say we escape this building, you stupid man, Fisk will hunt you and yours to the ends of the earth: it is not a time to run, anymore." 

"So you're a criminal with no friends, awesome, not everyone is in your horrible life situation," Foggy said, and got a furious glare. Foggy returned the favor. Nobody was going out in a blaze of glory, they were _getting out_. 

"Foggy, no," Karen said, but she was already catching him by the arm, pulling him up. Whoa. Okay. Pulling the grate, yeah, sure, it's just - standing up right was something he hadn't done in a minute, he'd always had excellent blood pressure, that was why he had such a bad head rush right now. 

"No," Matt said. 

"Because what, if I try to pull this thing I could hurt myself?" Foggy said. "Give me my phone back, tell me you didn't throw it away - "

"You can't call anyone," Matt said, but he'd hauled Vladimir up (in a way that made both of them shout with pain, great) and put them by the grate. 

"Rebar," Karen said, "all we have to do is get it up a couple of inches and then get the end of a rebar under there, we can leverage it up the rest of the way - go, Matt -"

"I absolutely fucking well can," Foggy said. "I need my phone, I don't have Brett's number memorized, give it back." 

"There's a lot of dogs," Matt said, but at least now they had him thinking about the technical challenges of the situation instead of which way he'd like to throw in the towel and commit suicide by cop, so: tiny silver lining in this giant fucking thunderstorm raining shit on all of their lives.


	6. Chapter 6

"Brett," Foggy said. He felt - they were all staggering through the fucking tunnels, how was this his life - and he felt cold and confused. He thought he might be missing some time, somehow, because he hadn't - Karen saying _no_ , and somebody crying, and somebody singing - guns, a lot of guns - 

The Russian guy wasn't with them. Maybe he'd gone on ahead? Maybe he'd gone on behind. 

Karen was white-lipped; there was blood in her hair.

Matt looked savage, in the dim light from the - why were these tunnels lit up, anyways? Foggy suddenly remembered why Matt had gotten so angry, right, oops, but the point was that he and Karen were right. A single stick was hard to break, but a bundle of them could never be broken, all that dumb karate movie shit. Still: "we're not trying to drag you into this but we need your help," he told the phone, earnestly. 

"Nelson?" Brett said. "What the hell are you - are you okay, you sound - _where are you_?"

"Oh yeah," Foggy said. His lips felt a little numb. "M cold, Brett."

"Shit," Brett said. Foggy didn't know why he was so upset, he hadn't even - "did I tell him why we're all upset yet?" he asked Karen. She shook her head. Matt shifted his weight; oh, he was the one carrying Foggy. That's right. Matt was the guy in the black mask. 

"Nelson," Brett said, in the way that meant he'd been saying it for a minute. 

"Brett," Foggy said. "You've known me for a long time, right?"

"Where are you," Brett said, "fuck, no, I - it's a civilian, I know him, shut up a minute - do you need an ambulance? Foggy, you need to hang up and call 911, I can't -"

"Ambulance can't do anything right now," Foggy said. Well. It could, but - it wasn't a practical idea, honestly, because - why because? 

"What the fuck are you -"

"Look, you trust me?"

"Do I _trust_ you," Brett said, and he sounded mad. That was fair. Foggy was still fucking furious, underneath the cold and the sad and the - confused. Matt. This was Matt's fault, because Matt was - 

"Me and Matt," Foggy said. Fuck, but it was cold, and whatever Matt was doing hurt like a son of a bitch. "And Karen. You met Karen."

"Not that way," Matt told Karen, "there's people - down that way, we have to go right."

"You should be mad at me," Foggy said to Brett, "but. We're. If we - I need you to pick us up, Brett, only you, no cops, I know how that sounds -"

""No cops," you know how that fucking sounds," Brett repeated, and Foggy was just getting to hear all of his friends in new octaves of horror and terror, tonight, that was great, that was really something he could've lived without forever. Matt gave the worst presents, literally, and also fuck Matt, because Foggy was already incorporating this idea of Matt as vigilante into his worldview, not good, not okay, but - but they weren't out of the woods yet. Sorry, everyone with strong morals: Matt still clearly thought they might die, here, tonight, and Foggy could not quite bear to die with Matt thinking Foggy hated him. Fuck. "Nelson, _I am a cop_ , where the fuck are you, I'm coming to get you and when I get _fired_ for abandoning my post in a terrorist attack you are representing me in court pro bono, you asshole -"

Which was funny enough, for a bunch of reasons, that Foggy just started laughing. 

And once he started, he maybe couldn't stop right away, even though it hurt to breathe. 

Matt took Foggy's phone away ( _again_ ) and said, very quiet and very precise, "Mahoney, this is Murdock, Foggy is - Foggy got stabbed - with rebar! or wood! debris! I didn't stab him - but he's - we got into the access tunnels, we're looking for a point that we can access the street." He paused, whispered _shit_ under his breath, clearly not intending it for Brett's ears, came to some kind of decision, and said "Karen Page is with us, and. I'm. Naked." 

He handed the phone back to Foggy. "He wants you," he said. 

Foggy tripped a little bit; Karen caught the other side of him. 

"Why does Murdock think I think he'd stab you?" Brett said. Yeah. Horrified. Straight-out horrified. 

"Plot twist," Foggy said, haha, no, he was not the one who had to explain this to Brett - or _god forbid_ Bess Mahoney, no, that was ALLLL on Matt - "We'll fill you in - we gotta be quiet, now, Brett, I'll - call you back."


	7. Chapter 7

Foggy actually remembered the kidnapping of Brett Mahoney well enough just because it was _so pathetic_. The closest thing to one of those car chases at eight miles an hour? He also remembers it because it's the first time he committed a crime for Matt - well, aiding and abetting, but aiding and abetting in _kidnapping a peace officer_ in the middle of a terrorist attack - 

(-"I'm not a terrorist!" Matt always interrupts, when Foggy tells this story, and Foggy always says "no, but Fisk was," so that's fine)

Foggy would've liked to dip his toe into Matt's contaminated swimming pool of crime, that's all, before commiting to a course of action that could get them all shot or jailed for years. Still. It took them a while to find access to the street: Matt and Karen wound up having a whispered but increasingly more pissed off argument about where they could exit: "I can do it fine," Matt kept saying, "but you and Foggy - "

"can also _do it_ ," I don't want to be stuck down here with - wherever those guys with guns - "

"I'm just trying to look out for you two," Matt had growled, and Karen had finally gone with "we wouldn't _be here_ if it wasn't for you, Matt!" 

After that, they'd looked for a exit to the street in total silence. 

Well. 

Foggy said total. 

He was cold and tired and more than a little loopy at that point. Karen finally said "I think he can _see_ just fine, Foggy," through what sounded like gritted teeth, and that's when Foggy realized that he'd been muttering "pipe coming up, on your left," and "duck down, some kinda radiator box," or "puddle," or "big fucking puddle," while Matt half-carried half-dragged him along. 

"Oh," Foggy said, and closed his eyes, because: that's right, Foggy was the stupidest, most gullible son-of-a-bitch on this green earth. 

"I'm blind," Matt said, shortly, to Karen. 

"You dodged a lot of bullets for a blind guy," she said. 

"My eyes don't work," Matt said. "Foggy, I -"

"What about here?" Karen asked, and it turned out that Matt did in fact think that Karen and Foggy could get themselves onto the street from there, because there was an old - rusty, but functional - ladder. Foggy got put in charge of calling Brett, and Karen and Matt got put in charge of pulling off all of Matt's Terrorist Bombing outfit, because there was only so far that Brett actually did trust Foggy. The chances that it would extend to refraining from shooting the man everyone thought was responsible for the bombings? Slim. 

Matt looked like _shit_ in his boots and underwear. 

**

 

"Jesus christ," Brett said when he saw the three of them crawl up out of the sewer, why were they in the sewer? "You drive," he told Ms. Page, because she looked the a) least bloody, and b) least naked, why was that a consideration at this point? 

 

**

Nelson had in fact been stabbed: the final tally (as far as Brett could tell, and that was keeping in mind that they were lying to him, made while assessing them as they walked up to the van and then while he got in the back with Foggy to hold his own jacket over the stab wound) was a) Nelson stabbed, oriented (mostly) to person, time and place 

("Hey, who's in the car with me?" "You, and me, and Karen, and Matt, and - and just Matt, I guess," which was weird, but the guy'd had a long night, clearly, so Brett moved on.) 

Page had followed his finger, and her hands were scraped up and bleeding - defensive wounds? maybe? - and she was filthy, but she'd seemed aware of her surroundings and she hadn't flinched when he'd asked her to drive, good, and _Murdock_ was for some godawful nonsensical reason _naked_ in the back of Brett's van, and whatever had happened to _him_ looked equally bad as Nelson, to be honest: he looked like he might be bleeding internally somewhere, but unfortunately Brett could do jack about that besides get them all to a hospital ASAP, what had they been _doing_ , why was Murdock _naked_ , naked IN THE SEWER?" and okay, maybe fine, he'd lost the calm talking-to-injured-civilians tone a couple minutes ago. 

Murdock flinched but said nothing, because goddamnit they were lawyers and they knew to keep their mouths shut about incriminating evidence, of course they did. 

Brett had never actually felt so much like a cop facing off against lawyers around Nelson and Murdock as he did _now_. "Whoever you're protecting," he said, "they don't deserve it, I want to let you know."

"Ain't _that_ the damn truth," Foggy said. His eyes were wet and bright with pain, but he was conscious, at least: good. And then the asshole tried to go for a fistbump, which - how lucid was he actually, right now, was he _kidding_ Brett with this shit? 

"We're not protecting anyone," Murdock said, looking like he was about to cry, okay, great, they definitely were protecting someone. 

"No," Page said, from the front, sounding about as mad as Brett had heard anyone sound, tonight, "that's right, we're _not_ ," and Murdock flinched again, and Nelson tried to sit up so Brett had to hold him down, and Nelson was the one who said "no, _Karen_ ," so not only were they protecting some asshole for reasons unknown to Brett, Karen definitely didn't want to be doing it. He was going to have to get them separated and try to talk to them all later, not tonight, _why_ was this happening _tonight_ \- "I don't know how to get to the hospital from here," she said, to Brett, great, so he took a minute to review his mental map on quickest way to get to the nearest hospital that was still accepting patients. 

"No," Murdock said. "Karen, no hospitals - I don't know where we are but we need to get to -"

"What do you _fucking mean_ no hospitals? Your friend got stabbed, Murdock," Brett said. 

"I have a friend," Murdock said, and great, now he looked stubborn, "she can help." 

"Yeah, no, we are not dropping your bleeding ass off at someone's house, we're going to the hospital," Brett said. "Look, Page, from here you're gonna head down 5th -"

"No," Murdock said. His jaw worked. He was really keyed up; Brett would think drugs, but - but what kind of drugs - what would they have taken that would still be hitting all of them this late into the night? "We can't - he won't be safe there." 

"What the fuck does that mean?" Brett said. "Okay, no, let's get one thing straight: this is not actually a democracy, we don't vote on this, I have already compromised procedure enough, we're - " 

Murdock made a terrible face, and then Murdock seemed to come to a decision. Honestly, it happened so quickly that Brett wasn't able to react, and that was on him, for not being careful enough, but he'd had his hands pressed to the wound on Foggy's side. He was expecting dissent, sure, or a fight, or raised voice, but what he was _not_ expecting was for the _blind naked guy_ to lunge forward, shove Brett's elbow aside, and go for his gun like he'd done it a hundred times. Brett had just enough time to take in a breath to yell and lift a hand up - Nelson grabbed him, _what the fuck_ \- and Murdock'd emptied the clip and tossed the whole thing out the window. 

"Karen, don't go to the hospital," he said. 

"Matt," Nelson said, and fuck, he looked to be in bad shape, he actually needed a hospital, "Matt, did you just. you have to stop **kidnapping people** , Matt."

"What," Brett said, because where had he gone wrong, here? Clearly somewhere he'd gone wrong, but he wasn't quite sure exactly what had happened, here. 

"I sure fucking hope you have five hundred dollars to buy Officer Mahoney a new gun," Ms. Page said, from the driver's seat, but oh, look, she was- listening to Murdock, not Brett. 

"What kind of cult shit have you gotten yourselves into?" Brett asked. Did they not see - okay, Murdock couldn't see - but if Nelson died because these two wanted to fuck around, oh, Brett was going to make damn sure everyone went to jail for a hundred years. 

"Brett," Nelson - Foggy said, and he was surprisingly lucid, "you - deserve to punch Matt in the face really hard, get in line, but - I don't think he's wrong about this, man." 

"Goddamnit," Brett said, after a long moment where he realized that he'd somehow been carjacked by a hundred-and-ten pound woman, a naked blind man, and a man who'd been stabbed, and - why were they so pathetic, if they weren't so pathetic he could handle this - "no hospitals, fine, go to my place."

"No," Murdock said, suspiciously. 

"My nan is there right now," Brett said, "she patched up people hurt worse than Foggy, back in the day, shut up or kidnap me for reals, Murdock, we need to get something done about your buddy here before I arrest all of you, are we clear?"


	8. Chapter 8

“ _You're_ the man in the mask,” Brett said. His head hurt. 

“Good,” his mom said, _like a traitor_. “You got the Fischer girl out of a bad situation a few weeks ago: I've been looking for someone to thank.” 

"Wha. What," Murdock said, still looking mostly like he expected to get hauled behind the woodshed and whooped. Which was _not off the table goddamnit_ , the very least of all of Brett's problems now included "lost my service weapon the night of a terrorist attack," and - 

"Don't get mad at _Matt_ ," Foggy wheezed. "I hauled. You into this." 

 

**

 

“Bu – but not the one. I didn't. Plant the bombs,” Matt insisted. 

“You're blind.”

“Yeah,” Matt said. He looked as tired as Brett felt. “Still blind.” 

“Gonna need more than that, bud,” Foggy explained, from the couch. 

“Do you have.” Brett rubbed both hands over his head. “Any alibis. Any way of confirming your behavior tonight?” 

“While we were trapped in the bombed out building with the Russian guy Fisk came onto the radio and sort of implied while never admitting that he was responsible for the bombs,” Foggy said. "I think the Russian guy is dead." He went even paler, and tried to sit up. "Aw fuck, Matt, is that guy _dead_?

“Yes,” Matt told Brett. He looked miserable; he'd hermit-crabbed into about six blankets. His nose hadn't stopped bleeding. "I - I think so. We don't have any alibis." 

 

**

 

“You put a guy in the hospital,” Brett said. 

“A pedophile,” his mom said, calm and firm. “Good job, Matthew.” 

“No!” He whirled, pointed one finger at her, and immediately regretted it. She looked ready to fight Brett on this, which was bad news for him. No one else in the room looked like they had the energy to fight. Hand went back in his pocket, and he backed up a couple of steps: okay, so it was ceding ground. “No, don't – why didn't you tell me, Murdock?” 

“There wasn't anything you could've done,” Matt said, very softly. “Nobody could do anything.”

“Yes! I could have! I could've - “ and even as he said the words he knew they weren't true, “followed him around until he blew a stopsign, asked a buddy to call in a noise complaint, something.” 

“Harassment, officer.” Foggy said. 

“No,” Matt said, looking deeply and seriously offended. “Brett, you can't – you shouldn't -”

“Just you? You're the only one allowed to pervert the system?” 

“Oh man, all our cases,” Foggy said, unexpectedly. “Fuck, Karen, all of them, this gets out and every criminal case is gonna get thrown out in about two seconds.” 

“All of Matt's cases,” she said. “Foggy, you and I didn't -”

“Who do you think is gonna believe that?” Foggy asked. He closed his eyes. 

“No,” Matt said, “I was trying to keep you safe.” 

Bess Mahoney laughed, deep and tired and mostly impatient, which was fair; she had his blood all over her house, which was - great, now the masked vigilante was tied to _Brett's mom's house_ with forsenic evidence. “Oh, Matt.” 

“I don't understand,” Karen told his mom. She sounded plaintive; she'd got both arms crossed, hugging her elbows, even though she'd been given one of the good knitted blankets from Brett's sister. 

“Can't keep anyone safe, Matt,” Bess said. “Gotta keep 'em as close as you can, though.” 

“Gimme five, Bess,” Foggy said. 

Brett fought the urge to say “stop befriending my mom,” because it was very apparent that he was stuck with these idiots. Instead, he said “I have to go, I have to get back on the street and figure out if I'm fired and who's dead: I will be back and when I'm back I want a real explanation. Murdock.” 

"Wait," his mom said. "Brett, you tell me: burn or bleach?"

"Nelson," he growled. "You got my mom destroying forensic evidence now, goddamnit, you know how lucky we all are that half the neighborhood got blown up?"

"As if it's the first time, he says," she scoffed. "Brett, don't you lie: you were just as glad as I was, when you got the serial rapist."

"I can help," Karen said. "If you tell me what to do. All I know is from CSI."

"Oh god," Brett said, automatically. "Mom, you stick with her, make sure she doesn't throw anything away where anyone can find it."

"I can help," Murdock said. He uncurled from the pile of blankets, wobbled for a minute after finding his feet, and collapsed in a sad little heap on the floor. 

"Damnit," Foggy said. "You know I deserve to be mad about this shit? Karen, how am I gonna get my God-given right to be pissed off at Matt when he's -" he gestured, helplessly. 

"I have to go, Mom," Brett said. She shook her hands at him, thoughtfully.

"We'll handle it here," she told him. "Go. Just try to keep your job and for god's sake don't let anyone come back here, and we should be all right."

 


End file.
